She approached. Her familiar smile generated sex appeal that even Knight was at a loss to quantify. The body language suggested that she understood what types of perversions might have brought him through the front door, and was happy to be his partner in crime without judgment.

“Can I interest you in a massage, sir?” For a brief moment, Knight stood dumbstruck at the possibility that she might be offering to administer it personally.

“We have many beautiful ladies from many places,” she added.

“I’ll have a drink and think about it.”

“Would you like some companionship while you consider?”

“I’ll take those two.” Knight pointed to the two youngest prostitutes in the lineup. Both were barely coming out the other side of puberty, and he knew that the more depraved his request, the more it would reinforce his cover as an outsider seeking forbidden pleasures in this world. “And I’d like to be seated upstairs.”

“I’m afraid the upstairs is for VIP customers only, sir.”

Knight asked the madam if purchasing a bottle of champagne would elevate him into that social stratum, and she confirmed that it would.

The madam then opened the velvet rope, and the two young girls led Knight away, lurching awkwardly like giraffes on their absurdly high heels.

Knight slid onto the red vinyl seat of the booth, flanked by the two teenagers. Across the room, he located his target, sitting with a mixed group of prostitutes and hard-looking men. He immediately recognized the man sitting next to the big white guy as Wan Koi, the notorious kingpin Ben Willmore at Fish and Wildlife had told him was untouchable.

As the white guy took a pull of his beer, his eyes met Knight’s. He seemed instantly suspicious of the other white face in the room.

Knight welcomed the man’s interest in him. He wanted the guy to squirm, and for his mind to race through the possible sinister reasons for Knight observing him. At some point, Knight would try to blackmail him, and the more exposed the man felt coming into that negotiation, the more receptive he would be to Knight’s proposals.

Knight suspected, based on the video he had seen, that this was the supplier, and he hoped to gather as much dirt on the supply side as possible so he could squeeze the white criminal.

“Mister, what would you like?” asked one of the two girls sandwiching Knight.

“I have problems making boom-boom,” he lied. Though he had many problems, erectile dysfunction was one he had rarely encountered, and in those rare instances, excessive alcohol consumption was always the culprit.

“Do you have anything that can help? Tiger cake? Rhino horn?”